The Hogwarts Orphan
by pygmypuff
Summary: An orphan arrives at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She has nothing but her wits, humor, and talent. But will they find out the truth?
1. Chapter 1

**Note: Yep! Here's the first chapter, I hope you enjoy it xD Any questions and comments go here or also if you want to contact me at my email.This is supposed to be the sixth year at Hogwarts. **

**Chapter One**

**_Strangers in the Dark_**

It was midnight and the weak street lamps outside of London's Orphanage were gleaming an eerie neon yellow. The autumn leaves shivered quietly on the darkened sidewalk and the moon lowered itself into the sinister river that encompassed the orphanage. The weary children, who were happy to be inside during a night like this, slept contently in their beds; but Angella Bureau did not sleep. She was in her nightgown, which glittered an unhealthy white in the moonlight. The fifteen-year-old girl sat on a small stool by the window, her turquoise eyes enormous and her ghostly hands clasped in her lap, waiting. Angella knew, as she sucked in her breath, that something horrible and completely unexpected would happen in a few moments, and that is why she sat there, dying of curiosity and fright. She could not explain this feeling, but knew that she could trust it because it had saved her many times before.

When she was very small, she had lived with her parents. Angella remembered their faces: her mother's huge beautiful eyes, as if the depths of a clear lake, and her father's pointed nose and furry eyebrows. They lived together near the coast on a quiet, placid beach in a small brown shack. It was all unbelievingly wonderful until one particular day when the sky lacked clouds and all was still. An enormous hurricane swept up three minutes before, during which Angella herself hid in a special underground shelter. At the last moment she poked her head through the surface and watched, horrified, as their small beach house caught fire and was thrashed into the air, never to come down again…

Angella listened intently for sounds that might warn her that the time has come, but there was nothing except the peaceful snores and warm breathing of fellow orphans. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and stared sleepily across the old resting room. The girl sat up abruptly on her stool as the eerie glow in the window intensified, and crouched, biting her pale lip, as three hooded figures appeared out of nowhere. Yes! She was right… she was right all along… Something completely stupendous will happen tonight… something that will change her life completely. She was sure of it. A feeling of excitement swirled in her chest as the hooded figures entered their orphanage, sliding across the cement. She whirled around, her heart beating wildly, knowing that they came with unpleasant intents. Angella's gaze drifted around the room as she looked desperately for a place to hide. The footsteps echoed loudly and clearly as they approached the door.

"… Don't think we should, Bellatrix," she heard someone say softly. "We should wait till morning, even though the Dark Lord…"

"We, have you forgotten, are on his orders?… You are foolish, Narcissa. Enter the room or stay behind," a voice snarled.

Angella stood, half-frozen, listening to this conversation, and quite forgetting about hiding herself. Her breathing quickened as the voices quieted, and she crammed herself feverishly into a closet in the corner of the room just as the door opened with a faint click. Three hooded figures glided across the parquet floor, soundless and disturbingly quiet. Angella watched from the keyhole as one of them paced the room with his or her eyes, staring at an empty bed where she should have been sleeping. Then it pulled out its wand and whispered "Incognito" into the air. In seconds Angella was flung out of the closet and landed face down in front of their feet. She scrambled back up but the hooded figure pushed her down, and stared coldly into her face. Angella could see blue eyes, fair skin, and blonde hair dangling by its high cheeks.

"The rose," it said numbly. "Where is it, you wretched Mudblood?"

"I-I-I d-don't un-understand. Wh-what r-rose?" Angella stuttered furiously.

"Don't play tricks with me! The Black Rose, I know you have it," it gripped her hand and twisted it painfully.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she struggled.

"Oh, you don't, do you?" the hooded figure's face was so close to hers that their noses were touching.

"Yes, I don't," she gasped for breath. "I was looking out the window when you c-came, and, a-and I-I h-h-have n-no idea what is h-happening."

The cloaked person released her hand and she fell to the floor, breathing heavily. It turned to the other two and stood there for a very long time.

"She really has no clue why we're here… We have captured… we have captured a silly Muggle," its voice faltered.

"I noticed, Narcissa," a different, raspy voice jeered. "It is your mistake. And now we have to deal with the Muggle."

"M-my mistake?" Narcissa lifted her eyebrows. "We are in this together."

"Oh, of course. That is precisely what we will report to the Dark Lord," the same voice said mockingly.

"Y-you w-wouldn't dare," Narcissa stammered. "I know you too well."

"Well," the voice said with poisoned sweetness. "It appears that you don't know me at all, Cissy."

"D-don't, no!" she almost screamed. "I know, I promise. Now please, follow me. We are in the wrong room."

"What about the girl?" Bellatrix said quietly.

"The girl? Oh yes, the Muggle…" Narcissa murmured, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a short slender stick with markings.

"You will do nothing to me," Angella rose her voice. "You will not harm me."

"You? Why yes, of course… Now close your eyes and everything will be over," Narcissa said as if lulling her to sleep.

"I am not stupid," she said loudly in a trembling voice. "You know magic and that much is enough for me."

Angella concentrated on the slender stick Narcissa was clutching. She had done this before, and she could do it again if she put her mind to it. Angella swallowed, and thought hard, _I want that long stick she is holding. I want it very badly. I need it so much I could die without it. Come to me… yes, please…_ She felt her eyes fire up and glow an unnatural blue when the slender stick in Narcissa's hand began trembling, and then trying to break free. Narcissa's eyes widened in fear and she gripped at the object, beads of sweat sliding down her neck. Then she yelled, "Natalo! NATALO!" and Angella's concentration broke, and her eyes once again cooled.

She stared with hatred at her opponent and said through gritted teeth, "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing at all," Bellatrix answered, expressionless.

"Then why are you here?" Angella said evenly.

Bellatrix did not answer, but nodded at Narcissa, who in turn raised her wand and aiming it at Angella, billowed, "Retendo Abent! RETENDO!"

Angella had not expected this. She crashed onto the floor with a soft thud, and closed her eyes, the blurred image of the room and the hooded figures escaping her mind. She woke up in the morning in her own bed, her body aching all over, bruised and wasted. A strange man with a silver beard and half-moon spectacles was sitting on the edge it and peering calmly into her face.

"Good Morning," he said pleasantly as her eyes fluttered open.

"Good Morning, sir," she answered, dazed. She wondered if she knew this man, and if not, what he was doing here.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked pleasantly.

"Well, yes… thank you," she lied.

"I am here, as you have probably and correctly assumed regarding yesterday night," he began kindly.

Yesterday night… yesterday night… the words echoed emptily in her head. There was a flash of light… an unclear image of a hooded figure and the floor. Oddly enough, she could not remember a single detail about that day, as if it had not happened.

"I'm sorry sir," she replied helplessly. "But I don't think I remember anything about it, oddly enough. I do see a cloaked figure, light, but… nothing else."

"Obviously the Charm the Death Eaters performed on you worked quite well if I do say so myself," he smiled.

"Death Eaters? Charm? Sir, I don't think I - "

"Yes, you do not understand, but perhaps I can clear your memory for you," he said thoughtfully. Pondering, he pulled out a long slender wand and flicked it wordlessly at Angella. A warm tinkling sensation entered her body and pushed its way into her toes. Angella smiled reluctantly and then turned pale and shivered, even though it wasn't very cold. A flood of memories captured her brain and she found it hard to put her mind on something else.

"I see you have remembered," the man said softly.

"I still don't understand, sir," she said almost instantly. "Who were those people that came here and why? They wanted something, something I did not have."

"They are called the Death Eaters," he explained patiently. "They serve Lord Voldemort, who is a powerful dark wizard."

"Wizard?" Angella breathed. "Then that means there are - "

"Yes," he finished. "Wizards. They do exist."

"A-a-and they wanted something," Angella pressed.

"Quite right. The Black Rose, which is a forbidden object that could permit Lord Voldemort become invincible," the man replied calmly.

Angella did not speak for a long time, thinking over the words he had just told her. But it did not yet occur to her, so she tried, "But sir, I'm sorry, why are you telling this to me if I am non-magical?"

He smiled. "That is where you are wrong. Do you remember how you attempted to accumulate the Death Eater's wand before she won it back?"

Angella nodded.

"I am sure that you have magical abilities, in which case it would be useless staying in London," he continued.

"B-but h-h-how did you know?" she did not understand.

"My dear girl, it was not _I_ who knew, but the Ministry of Magic, which knows everything that happens in the world concerning magic. You performed illegal magic outside the wizarding world, but you are not convicted as you are thought to be a Muggle, a non-magical person," he said pleasantly.

She turned pale again and her lips quivered like the night before when the Death Eaters arrived. It could not be true. She? A wizard? No, that seems silly… and yet, she had hoped for a moment like this for so long…

"Angella, you are a real witch, do not think that I would be here if you weren't," he said as if reading her thoughts. "I am Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, the magical school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be attending this school. Do you have any regrets?"

Regrets? How can there be any regrets when this man had just fulfilled her dream! Angella shook her head.

"Very well then," Professor Dumbledore said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Off we go then. I suppose we shall warn your instructor, though."

He paused at the door gesturing for her to follow him to the reception desk where Madam Bollfort worked. She turned to him, leaving messy sheets of paper lying on her desk.

"Welcome to London's Orphanage. How may I help you?" she said automatically.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said kindly. "I would like to see your headmistress Mrs. Pallowsky."

"Mrs. Pallowsky? I'm sorry sir, but she is busy at the moment. However, you can leave a message for her on this yellow paper," Madam Bollfort handed him a square sheet of paper.

"Madam, I don't think the matter can be discussed by written word. I would like to see her personally," Professor Dumbledore readjusted his half-moon spectacles.

But before the woman could reply, in bustled a stout irritated looking woman with black sleek hair pinned up in a bun.

"What did you say, Madam Bollfort? That I was too busy?" she said angrily.

"W-well I," the receptionist fumbled with a pen. "That's what you told me to say, headmistress."

"Yes… what? Now please leave. I would like to discuss the problem alone," Mrs. Pallowsky emphasized the word "alone."

Madam Bollfort grabbed her stacks of paper and bustled noisily out of the room.

"I'm terribly sorry," Mrs. Pallowsky said politely. "I assure you, this will not happen again."

"There won't be any need of it," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Now, I would like to take one of your children, Angella Bureau, to my school. You see, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, a magic school, and I believe your child has some ambitions."

"Angella? M-m-m-magic! Ambitions?" the poor headmistress sputtered. Angella did her best not to laugh.

"Yes, there is a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, madam, and that is where she will be staying. I swear she will be safe," Dumbledore said meaningfully.

"An-ge-lla w-was always a g-g-good girl, th-though p-p-perhaps a little peculiar. I-I never thought this w-would - " Mrs. Pallowsky broke off.

"Bad? You think we wizards are evil? Why, we are just like people where there are good and bad," Professor Dumbledore presumed.

"N-no, I didn't m-mean that," the headmistress said quickly, blushing.

"That shall be enough," he said simply. "Now, are there any papers I need to sign perhaps?"

Mrs. Pallowsky looked stunned for a moment, but then pulled out a pen and a folder from the bottom drawer. "Those are yours to keep." She fumbled a while on the shelves and reluctantly placed a white sheet of paper on the desk and gestured for Dumbledore to sign. The headmistress patted her bun absentmindedly and gazed across the room as if to make sure no one was listening.

"I'll have you know that this is permanent and I don't want to see you both here ever again. Is that clear?" she said sternly.

"As clear as ever, Mrs. Pallowsky," he said graciously.

"Well, then… good bye I suppose, and take care," she said uncertainly.

"Same to you, same to you," Dumbledore replied brightly, steering Angella out of the orphanage.

The sun outside was bleak and unwelcoming, a light breeze tickling Angella's face and arms. She was thankful to be outside even though the weather wasn't particularly pleasant because Mrs. Pallowsky rarely took them on daily walks. She breathed in the crisp air and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling. Dumbledore waited for her, his eyes twinkling, and as she looked up at him, there was nothing but love in those enormous, turquoise eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter One

Strangers in the Dark

It was midnight and the weak street lamps outside of London's Orphanage were gleaming an eerie neon yellow. The autumn leaves shivered quietly on the darkened sidewalk and the moon lowered itself into the sinister river that encompassed the orphanage. The weary children, who were happy to be inside during a night like this, slept contently in their beds; but Angella Bureau did not sleep. She was in her nightgown, which glittered an unhealthy white in the moonlight. The fifteen-year-old girl sat on a small stool by the window, her turquoise eyes enormous and her ghostly hands clasped in her lap, waiting. Angella knew, as she sucked in her breath, that something horrible and completely unexpected would happen in a few moments, and that is why she sat there, dying of curiosity and fright. She could not explain this feeling, but knew that she could trust it because it had saved her many times before.

When she was very small, she had lived with her parents. Angella remembered their faces: her mother's huge beautiful eyes, as if the depths of a clear lake, and her father's pointed nose and furry eyebrows. They lived together near the coast on a quiet, placid beach in a small brown shack. It was all unbelievingly wonderful until one particular day when the sky lacked clouds and all was still. An enormous hurricane swept up three minutes before, during which Angella herself hid in a special underground shelter. At the last moment she poked her head through the surface and watched, horrified, as their small beach house caught fire and was thrashed into the air, never to come down again…

Angella listened intently for sounds that might warn her that the time has come, but there was nothing except the peaceful snores and warm breathing of fellow orphans. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and stared sleepily across the old resting room. The girl sat up abruptly on her stool as the eerie glow in the window intensified, and crouched, biting her pale lip, as three hooded figures appeared out of nowhere. Yes! She was right… she was right all along… Something completely stupendous will happen tonight… something that will change her life completely. She was sure of it. A feeling of excitement swirled in her chest as the hooded figures entered their orphanage, sliding across the cement. She whirled around, her heart beating wildly, knowing that they came with unpleasant intents. Angella's gaze drifted around the room as she looked desperately for a place to hide. The footsteps echoed loudly and clearly as they approached the door.

"… Don't think we should, Bellatrix," she heard someone say softly. "We should wait till morning, even though the Dark Lord…"

"We, have you forgotten, are on his orders?… You are foolish, Narcissa. Enter the room or stay behind," a voice snarled.

Angella stood, half-frozen, listening to this conversation, and quite forgetting about hiding herself. Her breathing quickened as the voices quieted, and she crammed herself feverishly into a closet in the corner of the room just as the door opened with a faint click. Three hooded figures glided across the parquet floor, soundless and disturbingly quiet. Angella watched from the keyhole as one of them paced the room with his or her eyes, staring at an empty bed where she should have been sleeping. Then it pulled out its wand and whispered "Incognito" into the air. In seconds Angella was flung out of the closet and landed face down in front of their feet. She scrambled back up but the hooded figure pushed her down, and stared coldly into her face. Angella could see blue eyes, fair skin, and blonde hair dangling by its high cheeks.

"The rose," it said numbly. "Where is it, you wretched Mudblood?"

"I-I-I d-don't un-understand. Wh-what r-rose?" Angella stuttered furiously.

"Don't play tricks with me! The Black Rose, I know you have it," it gripped her hand and twisted it painfully.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," she struggled.

"Oh, you don't, do you?" the hooded figure's face was so close to hers that their noses were touching.

"Yes, I don't," she gasped for breath. "I was looking out the window when you c-came, and, a-and I-I h-h-have n-no idea what is h-happening."

The cloaked person released her hand and she fell to the floor, breathing heavily. It turned to the other two and stood there for a very long time.

"She really has no clue why we're here… We have captured… we have captured a silly Muggle," its voice faltered.

"I noticed, Narcissa," a different, raspy voice jeered. "It is your mistake. And now we have to deal with the Muggle."

"M-my mistake?" Narcissa lifted her eyebrows. "We are in this together."

"Oh, of course. That is precisely what we will report to the Dark Lord," the same voice said mockingly.

"Y-you w-wouldn't dare," Narcissa stammered. "I know you too well."

"Well," the voice said with poisoned sweetness. "It appears that you don't know me at all, Cissy."

"D-don't, no!" she almost screamed. "I know, I promise. Now please, follow me. We are in the wrong room."

"What about the girl?" Bellatrix said quietly.

"The girl? Oh yes, the Muggle…" Narcissa murmured, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a short slender stick with markings.

"You will do nothing to me," Angella rose her voice. "You will not harm me."

"You? Why yes, of course… Now close your eyes and everything will be over," Narcissa said as if lulling her to sleep.

"I am not stupid," she said loudly in a trembling voice. "You know magic and that much is enough for me."

Angella concentrated on the slender stick Narcissa was clutching. She had done this before, and she could do it again if she put her mind to it. Angella swallowed, and thought hard, _I want that long stick she is holding. I want it very badly. I need it so much I could die without it. Come to me… yes, please…_ She felt her eyes fire up and glow an unnatural blue when the slender stick in Narcissa's hand began trembling, and then trying to break free. Narcissa's eyes widened in fear and she gripped at the object, beads of sweat sliding down her neck. Then she yelled, "Natalo! NATALO!" and Angella's concentration broke, and her eyes once again cooled.

She stared with hatred at her opponent and said through gritted teeth, "What do you want from me?"

"Nothing at all," Bellatrix answered, expressionless.

"Then why are you here?" Angella said evenly.

Bellatrix did not answer, but nodded at Narcissa, who in turn raised her wand and aiming it at Angella, billowed, "Retendo Abent! RETENDO!"

Angella had not expected this. She crashed onto the floor with a soft thud, and closed her eyes, the blurred image of the room and the hooded figures escaping her mind. She woke up in the morning in her own bed, her body aching all over, bruised and wasted. A strange man with a silver beard and half-moon spectacles was sitting on the edge it and peering calmly into her face.

"Good Morning," he said pleasantly as her eyes fluttered open.

"Good Morning, sir," she answered, dazed. She wondered if she knew this man, and if not, what he was doing here.

"Are you feeling well?" he asked pleasantly.

"Well, yes… thank you," she lied.

"I am here, as you have probably and correctly assumed regarding yesterday night," he began kindly.

Yesterday night… yesterday night… the words echoed emptily in her head. There was a flash of light… an unclear image of a hooded figure and the floor. Oddly enough, she could not remember a single detail about that day, as if it had not happened.

"I'm sorry sir," she replied helplessly. "But I don't think I remember anything about it, oddly enough. I do see a cloaked figure, light, but… nothing else."

"Obviously the Charm the Death Eaters performed on you worked quite well if I do say so myself," he smiled.

"Death Eaters? Charm? Sir, I don't think I - "

"Yes, you do not understand, but perhaps I can clear your memory for you," he said thoughtfully. Pondering, he pulled out a long slender wand and flicked it wordlessly at Angella. A warm tinkling sensation entered her body and pushed its way into her toes. Angella smiled reluctantly and then turned pale and shivered, even though it wasn't very cold. A flood of memories captured her brain and she found it hard to put her mind on something else.

"I see you have remembered," the man said softly.

"I still don't understand, sir," she said almost instantly. "Who were those people that came here and why? They wanted something, something I did not have."

"They are called the Death Eaters," he explained patiently. "They serve Lord Voldemort, who is a powerful dark wizard."

"Wizard?" Angella breathed. "Then that means there are - "

"Yes," he finished. "Wizards. They do exist."

"A-a-and they wanted something," Angella pressed.

"Quite right. The Black Rose, which is a forbidden object that could permit Lord Voldemort become invincible," the man replied calmly.

Angella did not speak for a long time, thinking over the words he had just told her. But it did not yet occur to her, so she tried, "But sir, I'm sorry, why are you telling this to me if I am non-magical?"

He smiled. "That is where you are wrong. Do you remember how you attempted to accumulate the Death Eater's wand before she won it back?"

Angella nodded.

"I am sure that you have magical abilities, in which case it would be useless staying in London," he continued.

"B-but h-h-how did you know?" she did not understand.

"My dear girl, it was not _I_ who knew, but the Ministry of Magic, which knows everything that happens in the world concerning magic. You performed illegal magic outside the wizarding world, but you are not convicted as you are thought to be a Muggle, a non-magical person," he said pleasantly.

She turned pale again and her lips quivered like the night before when the Death Eaters arrived. It could not be true. She? A wizard? No, that seems silly… and yet, she had hoped for a moment like this for so long…

"Angella, you are a real witch, do not think that I would be here if you weren't," he said as if reading her thoughts. "I am Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, the magical school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will be attending this school. Do you have any regrets?"

Regrets? How can there be any regrets when this man had just fulfilled her dream! Angella shook her head.

"Very well then," Professor Dumbledore said as-a-matter-of-factly. "Off we go then. I suppose we shall warn your instructor, though."

He paused at the door gesturing for her to follow him to the reception desk where Madam Bollfort worked. She turned to him, leaving messy sheets of paper lying on her desk.

"Welcome to London's Orphanage. How may I help you?" she said automatically.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said kindly. "I would like to see your headmistress Mrs. Pallowsky."

"Mrs. Pallowsky? I'm sorry sir, but she is busy at the moment. However, you can leave a message for her on this yellow paper," Madam Bollfort handed him a square sheet of paper.

"Madam, I don't think the matter can be discussed by written word. I would like to see her personally," Professor Dumbledore readjusted his half-moon spectacles.

But before the woman could reply, in bustled a stout irritated looking woman with black sleek hair pinned up in a bun.

"What did you say, Madam Bollfort? That I was too busy?" she said angrily.

"W-well I," the receptionist fumbled with a pen. "That's what you told me to say, headmistress."

"Yes… what? Now please leave. I would like to discuss the problem alone," Mrs. Pallowsky emphasized the word "alone."

Madam Bollfort grabbed her stacks of paper and bustled noisily out of the room.

"I'm terribly sorry," Mrs. Pallowsky said politely. "I assure you, this will not happen again."

"There won't be any need of it," Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Now, I would like to take one of your children, Angella Bureau, to my school. You see, I am the headmaster of Hogwarts, a magic school, and I believe your child has some ambitions."

"Angella? M-m-m-magic! Ambitions?" the poor headmistress sputtered. Angella did her best not to laugh.

"Yes, there is a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, madam, and that is where she will be staying. I swear she will be safe," Dumbledore said meaningfully.

"An-ge-lla w-was always a g-g-good girl, th-though p-p-perhaps a little peculiar. I-I never thought this w-would - " Mrs. Pallowsky broke off.

"Bad? You think we wizards are evil? Why, we are just like people where there are good and bad," Professor Dumbledore presumed.

"N-no, I didn't m-mean that," the headmistress said quickly, blushing.

"That shall be enough," he said simply. "Now, are there any papers I need to sign perhaps?"

Mrs. Pallowsky looked stunned for a moment, but then pulled out a pen and a folder from the bottom drawer. "Those are yours to keep." She fumbled a while on the shelves and reluctantly placed a white sheet of paper on the desk and gestured for Dumbledore to sign. The headmistress patted her bun absentmindedly and gazed across the room as if to make sure no one was listening.

"I'll have you know that this is permanent and I don't want to see you both here ever again. Is that clear?" she said sternly.

"As clear as ever, Mrs. Pallowsky," he said graciously.

"Well, then… good bye I suppose, and take care," she said uncertainly.

"Same to you, same to you," Dumbledore replied brightly, steering Angella out of the orphanage.

The sun outside was bleak and unwelcoming, a light breeze tickling Angella's face and arms. She was thankful to be outside even though the weather wasn't particularly pleasant because Mrs. Pallowsky rarely took them on daily walks. She breathed in the crisp air and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling. Dumbledore waited for her, his eyes twinkling, and as she looked up at him, there was nothing but love in those enormous, turquoise eyes.


End file.
